


Late

by cradle



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Holiday, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Ugly Sweaters, fuzz
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-26
Updated: 2012-12-26
Packaged: 2017-11-22 11:51:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/609527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cradle/pseuds/cradle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Human skulls?"</p><p>"Of course."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Late

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by Reapersun fan art. 
> 
> (I will put a link up once I figure out how to use this site.)

The flat was pleasantly warm as the sound of a singing kettle rang out from the kitchen. John sighed and pushed himself out of his favorite easy chair. He walked to the teapot and plucked it off the stovetop.  He poured one cup but hesitated before pouring the second. He glanced at his phone; there were no new messages.  John poured the other cup anyway and carried them back to his chair.

“Where are you?” He murmured over his teacup, brows furrowed in thought. He pulled his phone out of his pocket to check it again. Still nothing, only the time. It read thirty-seven minutes past two AM.  John put the phone down with a little too much force than was necessary and rubbed his tired eyes.  He knew he ought to go to bed but he also knew he would just lay awake and stare at the ceiling until he went cross-eyed. 

So, being the stubborn man he was, John melted deeper into his chair and stared moodily at the human skull on the mantel. It stared back. John let his mind wander a bit as he waited, mulling over the most recent case that had appeared. An extremely odd if not morbidly festive killing spree. Four mall Santas’ had been found in various alleyways around London. John cringed over the disturbing fact that all the bodies had been discovered by young children. That didn’t bode well for a happy holiday season, John thought to himself.

His phone vibrated and John snapped out of his daze. He snatched up the phone eagerly before dropping it carelessly back on the end table. It was good news, but not from the person he was waiting to hear from. Greg Lestrade must have been on the same wavelength as John for he had just sent a text announcing the Santa killer was in custody. Something about how the killer was convinced the mall Santas’ were nothing but brain washing commercialist robots. John rolled his eyes.

Obviously Greg had been told this by his consulting detective, Sherlock Holmes. Who else would be able to come to such an in depth conclusion. _That man_ … John absentmindedly licked his lips. John couldn’t help it now, he thought of Sherlock with his tall slender figure and dark curly hair. John missed him terribly, he had been out the door before John had even woken. That was only hours ago but John hated being alone in December. All the festive lights and happy faces made him feel hollow, like he was missing out on some great sort of that everyone else was attending and enjoying.  He only felt that way when he walked alone. When he had company, especially Sherlock’s he was perfectly content with the season.

At some point after this John must have nodded off. The slamming of a door made him stir and sit up as a pair of shoes clunked up the stairs. John blinked sleepily and looked towards the doorway. Sherlock dropped his trench coast on the couch the moment he was in the room followed by his silky purple scarf and his sodden shoes. John smiled in spite of  himself and Sherlock  looked up from his phone at him.

“You’re late.” John stated, trying to mask his happiness to see his partner. Sherlock rolled his eyes skyward.

“Really John, time is such a superfluous thing, I don’t understand why people make such a fuss about it.” John ignored him and readjusted himself in his seat. Sherlock scanned his phone once more before glancing at John. He smirked as he moved towards him.

“What?” John asked.

“What indeed.” Sherlock replied, eyeing John with his icy blue eyes. They were slight crease around them which indicated a suppressed smile and even a good mood.

“Really John, what are you wearing?”

“It’s a Christmas sweater you prat!” John ran his hands over the white snowflakes and red stripes.

“Are…are those supposed to reindeer?”

“Shut up!”

“I just don’t understand why you would willingly wear such a thing.”

“Shut up. I’m being festive. Shut up.”

“Why?” Sherlock asked, eyebrows raised. John just tapped his watch pointedly. “Oh!” Sherlock exclaimed instantly, “I guess today is Christmas then isn’t it?” John rolled his eyes.

“That’s where time comes in handy.” John muttered under his breath. Sherlock was now standing directly in front of John so that there legs were almost touching.  Sherlock shifted his weight so his arms were on the back of John’s armchair and his face was just above the other man’s. John looked up at the pale angular  features.

“Yes?” He asked, pretending to be annoyed. Sherlock ignored him and kissed his cheek.

“I’m sorry I’m late.”

“Right.”

“No, really,” Sherlock persisted. “I know you hate being alone this time of year.”

“How-?” John asked slightly startled.

“I catch you staring out the window more than usual, you’ve been limping ever so slightly again indicating anxiety. You received a package from your sister but haven’t written her back to say thank you yet. Probably because you still feel like she still doesn’t think you are in a stable place in life and you resent her slightly for that. And along with that you are constantly fidgeting and rearranging the few holiday cards on the mantle we’ve gotten.” Sherlock rattled off.

 “Really John, I can read you like a book.” John gaped at him for a moment before shaking his head. Of course he knew, he always knew.

“Fantastic.” He muttered. “Com’ere.” He chuckled as he grabbed Sherlock’s shirt collar and pulled him closer. Their lips pressed against each other and John wove his fingers into Sherlock’s hair. He had missed this today. Sherlock knew where this was going and gently pulled John to his feet. They embraced tightly before Sherlock said,

“Couch.” John didn’t argue as he closed the short distance between them and the olive couch before pushing Sherlock onto it. He fell gracefully before landing with a muffled thump and swinging his gangly legs up, so his long body covered the length of the couch.

John drank in the sight of his gleaming eyes, dark curls, dusty red shirt and spindly black clad legs before draping himself over Sherlock. They kissed deeply as their hands roamed over one another. Sherlock slipped his cold hands under John’s sweater and moved to the scar on his shoulder where a bullet had pierced his body during his service.

John blushed at the familiar gesture. He thought Sherlock always felt the need to touch his scar just so he could assure himself that he would never let anything hurt him again. John caught Sherlock’s gaze and his eyes were soft. John knew he was right.  John was no genius but he knew Sherlock better than anyone.

 They went on like that for a while, just kissing and holding each other until John noticed a hardness against his leg. He kissed Sherlock’s neck and he groaned quietly. His grip on John’s hips tightened.

“Take off that awful sweater.” Sherlock hissed in John’s ear. John deliberately rocked his hips against Sherlock’s.

“No. You first with your damn dress shirt.” Sherlock groaned and pushed John away so he could unbutton his shirt. John grinned. This was new, Sherlock never listened to him, especially when it came to this sort of thing. The man was a total control freak. When his shirt was open John pushed himself back on Sherlock who kissed him hungrily. John pulled away after a moment and grinned down at a panting Sherlock.

“You alright?”

“Yes, I’m fine I just- you. I just need to have you right now…please.” Sherlock’s hand had moved down to John’s jeans and was ever so slowly pulling them down.

“This is new, Mr. Holmes.” John cooed in his ear. “It… it almost sounds like you’re begging?” John grabbed Sherlock’s cock through his pants and he in took sharply at the touch.

“Damn you John.” Sherlock muttered under his breath and John pushed himself into sitting position his legs straddling Sherlock’s. “No, please.” He half laughed. John said nothing, arms crossed. Sherlock swore and dropped his hands onto John’s thighs. “Please?” He said softly. John grinned even wider.

“What was that?” Sherlock scowled at him.

“Please, John?” John was nearly giddy with excitement, this was such fun for him. Watching how his touch could make Sherlock squirm.

“You should have come home earlier. People are supposed to be together Christmas Eve.”

“Sor-“

“And I was going to give you an early present too… its awfully big package.” At this John pushed into Sherlock, relishing in the friction.

“Oh, please!” Sherlock cried out. “I was working! On…a…case…mmm…” John kissed him and began to make his way down Sherlock’s chest and stomach.  “I,” Sherlock panted, “I haven’t wrapped your- ah! Your present yet…I got distracted and then Lestrade- Oh, shit!”

John had pulled down Sherlock’s pants and now had his mouth pressed against his shorts. He eyed him but his head was thrown dramatically backwards. John teased Sherlock even more, kissing and nipping the inside of his thighs.

“Why are you letting me do this?”

“Hm?” Sherlock asked peering down his long nose. “Do what?”

“Uh, well, letting me be in charge?” Sherlock laughed.

“Why am I letting you dominate me?” John blushed. Sherlock licked his lips. “Experiment.” He stated simply. John rewarded him with a gentle stroke.

“For what?” Sherlock grunted. John pulled his pants all the way off and tossed them on the floor.

“You just fascinate me. You’re my favorite subject of study.” John was secretly pleased but rolled eyes instead.

“Hush, Holmes.”

“Make me.” He growled. John raised an eyebrow and with one swift movement pulled Sherlock’s legs out from under him and pulled them around so he was kneeling in front of the couch. John leaned over him and snaked a hand down to his shorts before pulling them down to Sherlock’s knees. Sherlock was practically giggling when John grabbed is cock and started pumping but fell silent soon after.

“You are quite cute when you try to control me. You know that?” John was getting wound up. He could feel the lust swirling about in his stomach and it mixed with his happiness to have Sherlock home and the excitement of being in control of him for once in his life.

He finally had an idea of why the man beneath him was so protective, if not possessive of him. It felt good to have something, _someone_ , who would do anything for you. You just only had to ask the right way.  John chuckled darkly.

“Right, I’ll show you cute. Just relax…”  Sherlock looked over his shoulder.

“What-“ John slapped a hand across his arse.

“I said quite.” He growled as he admired the pink handprint he had left on the pale skin.

“I’m actually enjoying this-“ Another sharp slap. Sherlock laughed but said nothing as he lowered his head to rest on the couch. John pulled down his pants and pressed against his man, _his_ Sherlock. He positioned himself behind him and brushed his leg with his own cock. Sherlock stiffened. John grinned.

“That’s it, now you get it. Just relax.” John took him by the hips and squeezed tightly. A shiver went through his body. Pleased, John wet two fingers and trailed them down Sherlock’s exposed lower back and down in between his arse cheeks. He slowly pushed one finger inside him and then withdrew. He wet his fingers again and kissed a pink cheek. Before sliding his tongue down to Sherlock’s entrance. He flicked his tongue in and out until he could feel Sherlock begin to squirm again.

He pulled back and repositioned himself again.

“Should I go fetch some lube from the bedroom.”

“Ah, no. No, just go.” He grunted.

“Alright, just relax, trust me.”

“Whatever you say, John.” John had never taken Sherlock before and his cock throbbed at just the though. John knew how it felt to be fucked liked that and he was going to show that to him. He was going make Sherlock scream.

 John shifted on his knees, cock in hand. Then he aimed and pushed. They both let out loud gasps but John didn’t punish Sherlock this time, he was too distracted.  He grabbed Sherlock’s bony hips and thrust again, deeper this time. Then again and again, picking up speed as he found a rhythm he liked.

Sherlock moaned loudly and John spanked him without even thinking. He felt his body tighten around John and they both let out strangled, guttural noises.

“Fuck,” muttered John, “fuck!” He slowed down to catch his breath and he heard a groan from the couch.

“No, don’t stop.”

“Beg!” Barked John. He spanked him again. “Beg for me Sherlock. I want to hear you.”

“Dammit John!” Sherlock nearly screamed into the couch cushions. “Fuck me! Just do it, please. Just don’t stop, this is incredible, ju-please.”

He moaned loudly as John slammed into him again and again. Without thinking John grabbed Sherlock’s hair and pulled. His head jerked backwards and John took his momentary unbalance to push him off the ground and onto the couch again. Sherlock clutched the back of the couch as John stood and started moving again.  Sherlock may have been bigger then him but John was still strong from his time in the army. He could feel pressure start to build at this new angle and closed his eyes as pleasure began to flood his body. Blood pounded in his ears and John was distantly reminded of the sounds of exploding bombs.

“Almost done, love.” He thrust as hard as he could for a few pushes and then he felt the release and slumped panting against Sherlock. His satin shirt was damp with sweat. John nuzzled his shoulder blades as he felt that intense hunger fade from his limbs.

“Can’t feel my damn arms.” Groaned Sherlock. He hadn’t finished yet.

“Always late.” John smiled. “Here,” he said kindly as he pulled out, “let me help.” Sherlock’s legs trembled and gave out when John moved away from him. He fell sideways on the couch and closed his eyes.

 Without a second to lose, John swiftly dropped to his knees, opened Sherlock’s legs and took him in his mouth. He tenderly swirled his tongue around his shaft as he moved up and down.

He heard  Sherlock’s breath hitch and John reached up to relax him. He ran his hand soothingly up and down Sherlock’s ribcage and he could feel the goose bumps form as he went. The mood had gone from fiery and passionate to a tender fuzzy kind of love.

Sherlock groaned and weakly placed a hand on the back of John’s head.

“Oh, John.” He whispered. John hummed in response and could feel Sherlock twitch in response.  With one final suck and a pitiful moan, Sherlock shuddered and came as John swallowed around him. John looked up at Sherlock’s face and had to suppress a laugh. The man was knocked flat on his back,  spread eagle, eyes shut tight and mouth slightly agape.

John wiped his mouth and leaned up to kiss him. Sherlock pressed back faintly. They were both exhausted.

“John?” he whispered after a minute or two.

“Hm?” John murmured as he nuzzled Sherlock’s thigh.

“You did not have the hideous sweater on the whole time. Please tell me you didn’t.” The corner of his mouth twitched in a smile. When John didn’t reply Sherlock groaned. “God, I hate you and that jumper.”

“Liar. Now move over, you great lump.” Sherlock shifted and they curled up together on the couch, still half clothed. John reached up to pull a blanket over them and they both closed their eyes. Sherlock’s head was nestled against John’s neck and was just on the edge of sleep when John said,

“You know I bought you a matching blue one right?” Sherlock snorted.

“Of course I know. When I commented on it earlier you-“ John pressed a finger against Sherlock’s lips.

“Hush.”

“I’m not wearing it John.”

“Yes you will. Let me go grab it.” John pushed himself up off the couch and went to the bedroom. He returned a minute later clutching a periwinkle blue bundle. Sherlock eyed it like it was a dead cat.

“Really, John what were you thinking?”

“It has little skulls and snowflakes on it...” John grunted. Sherlock fell silent at this. “You don’t have to wear it in public. I just thought you could wear it to bed in the winter… you know keep you warm.” John lay the jumper on the coffee table before snuggling back in under the blankets. The two embraced again, John could feel Sherlock’s cheeks flush against his neck and he kissed him on the forehead tenderly.

“Human skulls?” He asked quietly.

“Of course.” The corners out Sherlock’s mouth twitched.

“We are quite a pair, you and I.”

“Quite.” John murmured as he clasped Sherlock’s hand under the blanket.

“You know…” Sherlock said softly, “It does look really warm…” John rolled over and handed the jumper to Sherlock. He studied it for a moment before pulling it over his head and slumping back next to John.

“You look perfect.” The two of them kissed and began to drift off to sleep again, feeling toastier then ever. Sherlock suddenly chuckled and John stirred.

“What?”

“Hmm, I was just thinking, you should buy me a sweater whenever we do… that.”  John groaned and kissed Sherlock again.

“A kinky sweater collection.” Sherlock grinned against his neck. “Of course love.” John sighed. “A Christmas tradition…” And with that the two of them drifted off together, smiles still playing at their lips.

 

 


End file.
